


Downward Dog

by risokura



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25750510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risokura/pseuds/risokura
Summary: It started as a gentle suggestion from his physical therapist, "Noctis... have you ever tried yoga?" AU.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76





	Downward Dog

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired from my days when I was working in a yoga studio.

—

**Downward Dog**

—

The first time Noctis’ physical therapist suggests he tries yoga, the twenty five year old just stares at her. No emotion, no reaction. Was she serious? Yoga? What in the world was he going to do with yoga?

Oh, it’ll help him stretch out. Stretch… _what_ out? Gah.

He guessed he shouldn’t complain. He _had_ been confined to a wheelchair for the better part of last year, even with all of those countless surgeries that were supposed to aid in his rehabilitation. Besides, learning to walk again had been a fucking bitch and he honestly wasn't looking forward to getting back into any strenuous forms of exercise anytime soon. Physical therapy had been painful enough. Yoga was _gentle,_ she tried to convince him.

Even though he sneered at the thought of yoga, during their next session, his physical therapist tried to persuade him to go again. Lot’s of Olympic level athletes used it as a great stretching and toning resource, she said, both women _and_ men. Oh, so that was supposed to convince him? Noctis shook his head again at the thought. She was crazy. Perish the thought. There was no way he was going to be caught dead in a room full of wine guzzling, middle aged white woman, doing crazy poses that emulated a _tree_ on a chintzy mat for an hour. Forget it. Just, _forget_ it.

He brings it up with Ignis when he arrives to pick Noctis up from physical therapy and Ignis brims with interest at the thought. His exact words were, _that’s an excellent idea, Noctis._ Noctis wants to put a gun up to his head and push a bullet through the doughy, grey matter. Everyone has lost his or her mind. He’s _not_ doing yoga.

He’s not.

——

Gladio and Ignis are idiots.

But, Noctis, is the biggest idiot of them all for even going along with this.

Here they are, three idiots standing in the middle of the nearest sports shopping looking at yoga equipment. Noctis has his sunglasses on and his headphones in, pretending he’s not hearing the exchange between the shop clerk and Ignis as he inquires about the _best_ yoga mats for beginners. The shop clerk prattles on incessantly about finding the best grip or your yoga mat. What type of class are they doing? Is it hatha or vinyasa? Bikram? Hot yoga? Restorative practice? What are all these terms? Isn’t yoga just … _yoga?_

Gladio punches Noctis in the shoulder and tells him to stop looking so dour. Of course his personal fitness trainer would be on board with this. Gladio used to put him through the ringer when he used to train. If there was any chance to get Noctis back into shape again, he was going to take it.

They leave the sports store with three brand new and expensive Manduka mats—priced at $75 a pop—some yoga blocks, towels, and straps. Ignis confidently turns toward the two other men as they enter the parking lot and feels that this is sufficient enough preparation for their first class. Noctis blanches at Ignis saying _their_ and asks him what in the world did he mean by that.

Oh, didn’t he know?

They were going with him.

——

Noctis wonders if he’ll ever be normal again.

He was only twenty-three when that damn injury ended his career and now he was supposed to find something else to dedicate his life to? Speed skating had been everything. The feel of gliding over the ice at close to 40mph, overtaking your opponent when they just had a smidge of a lead over you. Going round … and around and around on that track, fighting to beat your previous personal best. Even a fraction of a second was an improvement.

Regis had started him young, learned that he enjoyed skating when he was a child. Figure skating seemed too … emasculating to his father—blame old timey gender roles—so he put Noctis in hockey at first. That was okay for a while because Noctis could be on the ice… but he never really cared for the sheer violence that seemed to exude from players of the sport.

It was pure happenstance when he was watching the Winter Olympics that he saw _him_ for the first time, his former idol, Apolo Ohno. Seeing someone that looked like Noctis out on the ice, doing something completely insane, and people _loving_ him for doing it. Noctis had never had too many hang-ups over his racial identity—Asian mom, European dad—but this still mattered to him.

And so, he asked his father if he could start training to pursue this short track speed skating that he all of a sudden seemed to love. When Regis asked him about what they would do about hockey, Noctis proudly proclaimed, _this_ was _cooler._ Just _look_ at that Apolo Ohno dominating his competition. Regis thought he saw Noctis’ head steaming when he talked about it. He had never seen his son so passionate about something before. With a sigh, he gave in. Teenagers, bah.

They started simple, inline skating on a track at first. Noctis never quite understood what Regis’ hang-ups were. He was already putting himself in harms way with all the roughhousing and tussling of hockey, what made speed skating any different? He was as fast on rollerblades as he was on ice skates and his coaches commented to Regis that they thought it would be okay to allow the fourteen year old on the track.

So they did that for a couple of years. He made it to the World Junior Championships at the age of fifteen and won a silver medal. A few years later, there were the World Short Track Speed Skating Team Championships, then the ISU Short Track Speed Skating World Cup, and lastly, the World Short Track Speed Skating Championships. Progression took him to Gladio, who would become his personal trainer through much of his success. They would be pushing for the Olympics. And push they did. He won one silver and another gold medal for the US team. By God, he had done it. He didn’t break or set any type of world records, but the victory of an Olympic games was more than enough for Noctis.

But, victory lasts for so long. It was during the qualifiers for the next set of Oylmpic games, that Noctis didn’t forsee his next shot at victory ending so soon. A slip on the ice, one concussion and a completely shredded left leg later, he had found himself in the hospital and then physical rehabilitation for the last year. It had been hard … frustrating mostly. But here he was, able to walk again—with a damn limp, he thought bitterly.

But, he was alive.

At least he had that.

——

Noctis hangs behind Gladio’s lumbering form as they enter the tiny yoga studio together as a pack of three. Ignis takes the lead and proudly proclaims that they’re new to the studio and would love to get started on whatever beginner’s packages that the studio offers. The girl behind the desk is too cheerful and upbeat for his own liking and he hates this place already.

She won’t stop asking them questions like—have they ever done yoga? What brought them into the studio? Do they have any goals? Are they doing any other types of exercise? Blah? Blah, blah, blah? Shut. _Up_.

Ignis doesn’t really take into consideration that Noctis is beyond embarrassed and whispers something to the receptionist about healing injuries and physical therapy. The receptionist takes a look at Noctis who turns the other way to hide his face again and she nods in understanding while proudly proclaiming that _YO~GA_ is a wonderful place to start.

They get signed up in a few minutes and she asks them if they would like a tour of the facilities to which Noctis mumbles a no to no one but himself. Gladio grabs his arm and literally yanks him forward and Ignis has already disappeared down the corridor to follow the girl.

After more needless explanations about the studio’s facilities—have you seen the sauna room?—she instructs the three to get comfortable and to enter the yoga room with only their mats, towels, water, and other yoga materials they may have brought. No shoes, no socks. Leave your electronic devices outside, this is a space of _healing_ and _peace._ Noctis rolls his eyes so hard behind his sunglasses, he feels his brain might break.

As soon as the girl leaves them alone, Gladio nearly rips the offending shades off Noctis’ face and slaps him on his shoulder to get straight and to get his entitled princess ass into the yoga studio. He needs healing the most out of the three of them.

They at least give Noctis the courtesy of setting their mats up in the back. The usual crowd files in as Noctis has expected. Yoga moms, yoga girls, the odd husband brought in by the yoga wife to experience the joys of yoga torture. Yoga. Yoga, yoga, yoga. Yoga brain. At least they were quiet.

Feeling incredibly stupid, Noctis kind of just sits there on his mat. He turns to look at Ignis on his left who seemed to be stretching in preparation for class. A quick glance to his right at Gladio and he sees his trainer stretching, too. Stretching his eyes at the butts of the women coming into class, more like it. Noctis mentally gags and takes to flopping over on his mat and wishing this whole ordeal was over. The girl at the front _did_ say he could sleep for the entire class if he felt like it. It was all about going at your own pace. He guessed he could get with that.

After what seemed like an eternity, a distinctively male voice echoes out over the space and the lights that were originally dim come on hard and bright. Noctis winces and opens his eyes after Ignis gently prods him.

At the front of the class stood a young blond man, standing on a sky blue mat decorated in _chocobos_ , probably around the same age or a bit younger than he was. He cheerfully introduced himself as _Prompto_ and that he would like to welcome everyone to this morning’s Hatha class. Hatha? What the hell? Wasn’t yoga just yoga? Prompto surveyed the room as if he were searching for something and then nodded in an affirming manner. Any beginners here today? Any new people to the studio?

Noctis refused to raise his hand even after Gladio nudged at him, but Ignis was prompt in raising his hand for the three knuckleheads in the back. Prompto clapped his hands together giddily and gave them a thousand watt smile. This guy was way too upbeat. He droned on about something regarding postures and taking breaks if needed. However, it was important to stay in the room as not to distract the other participants from their practice by constantly going and coming. With another cheerful exclamation, the young man proceeded to remove his shirt, and the class started.

Noctis decided he wanted to go to sleep instead.

——

At physical therapy the next day, Noctis mumbled to his therapist that he had tried her yoga suggestion.

When she beamed at him and asked him how it went, he told her he just went to sleep.

——

They go again to class on a Saturday and Noctis finds the studio to be too crowded for his liking. Why in the world were so many people awake at 8AM on a Saturday morning to subject themselves to this? He doesn’t have much time to think about it. Gladio pushes him into the room, Ignis assumes a meditative posture, and Noctis lays flat on his back with his eyes firmly shut. He notes to himself that the music playing in the room sounds like something you would hear in the final dungeon of a video game, right before you confront the last boss… huh, wait. He recognized that track from one of the RPGs he was currently playing.

Prompto’s familiar voice echoes out over the room again and Noctis blinks at the effervescent young man striding across the studio as if he owns the room. He smiles in Noctis’ direction, apparently remembering him from last time. The guy that slept through his entire first class, what a reputation. Well, we all have to start somewhere.

He starts off with a gentle reminder of the importance of breathing. Always remember the breath. Breathing, inhale, exhale, is the most important part of the practice. Noctis scoffs, what idiot doesn’t know how to breathe? He doesn’t get it quite yet. Ignis seems to be enjoying himself, though. And big, burly Gladio can hardly lift an arm over his head. Noctis snorts. Idiots.

Prompto guides them through another standard set of twenty six postures in his one hour hatha class. He walks around the room adjusting his students as he goes, lowering or raising arms, correcting the spacing of their legs, fixing their posture. He encourages variations—whatever those are—if the postures are too difficult to hold or painful in anyway. If anyone has injuries, _please_ , adjust. Don’t push yourself.

Noctis raises his eyebrows when Prompto makes his way over to Noctis’ space and stands beside him as he instructs the class through Tadasana. What the hell is a tadah sauna? Prompto glances at Noctis and says, mountain pose, as if he were reading his mind. Okay. So they’re just standing there? That’s it? That’s the pose. Yes, Noctis has never felt as stupid as he has in his life right now.

At the end of class, Prompto smiles at him and thanks him for coming again and for actually _participating_ in class this time. Noctis shrugs noncommittally at him and walks out the door without another word.

——

Over dinner with his father, Regis asks him how the yoga practice is going.

Noctis flicks his vegetables over the table and groans.

——

During his fourth yoga class, Noctis encounters something strange.

A woman, in the back row with the three of them. She starts sobbing after class ends and Prompto comes over to see if she’s okay. He overhears something about a death in the family and her finding it hard to deal with things as they are right now. She _thanks_ Prompto for his class and being the one thing in her life bringing her calm and substance. It’s just been… really hard.

Prompto smiles gingerly at her and addresses her by her first name and says she can stay in the room for a few more minutes to meditate before the next class. She thanks him and goes back to her mat to lay down and what Noctis presumes is some sort of meditation? Prompto catches Noctis staring as he leaves and waves.

_See you next time, Noctis._

He knows his name now.

——

Noctis is out grocery shopping with Ignis one evening when they run into Prompto.

He’s wearing… what in the world is the guy wearing? Bright pink hoodie, green and yellow speckled skinny jeans, bright red Doc Martens, and a chocobo messenger bag. And glasses. He’s wearing glasses? Noctis almost blinks twice because the instructor he knows from his yoga class— _his_ yoga class?—has never worn something so… so… offending. Sans the chocobo themed yoga mat, he’s always dressed so plainly for class.

Ignis makes the comment about that person looking like Prompto and Noctis turns his head away, trying to avoid the awkward confrontation of seeing someone you know in the grocery store. Just normal people going about their normal lives. Prompto happens to come up behind them in line and immediately notices Ignis’ standing there staring right back at them. Prompto, kind as ever, greets them. What a surprise. Noctis is mostly quiet in their exchange, silently acknowledging Prompto and then turning his attention to the obscene rack of glossy tabloids that stands before them.

They talk about nothing, really. Prompto tells them he’s on his way to a night class for something. Oh, he’s a college student. Should have guessed that. Ignis asks him what he’s studying and Prompto proudly declares, _photography._ Or some type of art thing. A man of many interests, Ignis muses. Prompto just laughs and declares that its a hobby, nothing more. Noctis remains quiet.

They chat for a few more minutes and say goodbye as the cashier finishes ringing up Noctis and Ignis’ purchases and Prompto pushes his own pile of mess onto the conveyor belt. _See you in class on Saturday, Noctis?_

Noctis nods awkwardly and turns away. Ignis simply sighs and pushes him out of the supermarket.

——

It’s the middle of October and its become a thing now.

Every Monday and Saturday morning, there they are. Back row, Prompto’s 8AM class.

Noctis doesn’t hate class as much as he used to. He admits he does feel really good after an hour of stretching and holding poses he can’t remember the names to—cursed short term memory. But, its still yoga… and that’s that.

Ignis is the first of them to excel at an arm balancing posture, of course. Crow pose. One class, one foot lifts off the ground. Another couple of days later, both feet lift off the ground for barely a second. On a Saturday morning, he holds the pose for a good three seconds as he leans forward, looks up, and both of his feet lift off the ground. Prompto cheers in encouragement and Noctis scoffs. Show off.

Noctis can barely hold tree pose without stumbling and almost falling to the ground. Prompto smiles and tells him to try again. Adjust, variation. Remember?

Gladio finally gets his arms over his head in a straight line. He cheers himself on.

Little victories, Noctis supposes.

——

Noctis comes to class by himself one day and feels his anxiety spiking to a fever pitch.

Gladio had to drive Iris somewhere and Ignis had a previous engagement regarding a business matter Regis was having him look into. So there he was, standing at the imposing door to the studio, clutching his black Manduka mat underneath his arm by himself. It was so easy with Gladio and Ignis at his side. Why was he being such a punk right now? It was just a stupid yoga class.

He almost turns around to leave, but then he sees Prompto—bright, cheerful, jumpy Prompto—leaving his car and running toward the studio as if he’s going to be late. Prompto smiles at him and comments on his lack of companionship for the day. Noctis silently mutters under his breath something that Prompto can’t quite hear and Prompto has the audacity shrug it off and link his free arm with Noctis. He pulls him into the warmth beyond the door in front of him with no questions asked.

Noctis clutches his mat in his tepid arms and comes into the yoga room just as Prompto is setting up his music. He sets about wiping some of the mirrors stained with the footprints and handprints of people who were practicing their headstands from the previous class. Noctis’ ears perk, oh, he’s playing that video game music again.

Awkwardly, Noctis sets his mat down and sits down on it. Perhaps this would be less intimidating the further he is away from Prompto. Noctis meekly calls out and Prompto startles. Ah, the quiet boy finally speaks? Noctis asks him if his music is from … that game … that just came out and Prompto nearly blows his eardrums out by proclaiming his eternal love for said game series that Noctis asks him about. Prompto excitedly asks him if he plays video games and Noctis gives him another meek nod. _DUDE! ALL RIGHT._

Maybe … they could talk about games sometime? Between Gladio and Ignis, he doesn’t really talk to anyone else about this stuff. A life spent dedicating his time to training and sport has left him with little space for friends. Maybe that would explain his social aversion?

More people start to file into the room and that’s Noctis’ opportunity to go quiet.

When they come to the tree pose transition during class, Noctis’ balance is actually stable for once and he holds it until the next change in the sequence. Prompto gives him a firm nod of approval.

It … feels good.

——

Prompto comments on Noctis’ consistent dedication to class and suggests that he try out some of the vinyasa classes that the studio offers. They’re a bit more challenging, but he’s been doing well so far. A change of pace could be nice.

Ignis goes with Noctis to a class one Friday evening and Noctis instantly hates the pacing of the class. This feels like bootcamp. He wants to go back to Prompto’s class where things are nice and slow.

Prompto asks him how it went and Noctis gives him a pained expression.

Not so good, I guess?

——

Noctis runs into Prompto again. By himself. At the video game store.

Prompto approaches him like they’re old friends and Noctis is able to hold a ten minute conversation with him about the finer intricacies of being a video game connoisseur. Noctis doesn’t want to admit that it’s actually nice to talk to someone who shares his interests for _once._

He can count on one hand the amount of people he talks to in his daily life and not one of them can say they share the same amount of love he has for his beloved video crack. Regis indulges him, Ignis sighs at his childish hobbies, and Gladio used to scold him for skimping out on training to play the latest version of Pokemon Zelda or the Legend of Pikachu or whatever the heck they were called. 

They both leave the store and Prompto tells Noctis he should come over and they can play sometime… or vice versa if Noctis doesn’t mind.

Perhaps, that would be okay.

——

Regis takes them out to dinner one night and he is perplexed.

Ignis is inquisitive and Gladio is beyond amused.

Noctis brought a _friend—his yoga instructor????—_ home to play video games. And he was so wonderfully respectable and polite. He even stayed for dinner. I never thought I would see the day.

Noctis stabs at his steak and proceeds to vocalize that he hates them all.

——

On a crisp autumn morning in late November, they sit together over a cup of coffee.

Noctis is curious and asks Prompto how he came to be a yoga instructor. To his surprise, he learns that Prompto used to be a figure skater. A life on the ice, something else that they had in common. No wonder the man was so lithe and flexible. Not that… not that Noctis had noticed.

When Noctis asks him about what happened, Prompto looks a little sheepish when he says that he took his training too far and he had to stop… permanently. Lack of proper aftercare, overused joints, a torn meniscus, improper nutrition, the list goes on. He had to be lighter, had to be faster. The pressure to succeed in the competitive world was insane. He took measures that he shouldn’t have and it cost him… dearly…

Prompto sips his warm chai latte and smiles at Noctis. That’s why he likes yoga. It teaches you proper care for the mind, body, and soul.Noctis wants to vomit at how utterly cheesy his instructor … no, his friend, is being.

The direction changes and Prompto asks Noctis the million dollar question of the day, _why_ did he start coming to class? Noctis stares earnestly at Prompto and asks if he knows who he is. Of course, he did. But, it would be impolite to throw that around in such an environment. Yoga wasn’t about the ego, remember? It was about letting go of all of that rubbish. Noctis shrugs and says that he came at the behest of his physical therapist. If Prompto knew who he really was, then he knew about who he was before all of this.

Prompto, too, asks him if he ever wants to go back to that world of competitive skating on the ice and Noctis shakes his head and proclaims, he _can’t._ Traumatic brain injury and all that. Even if he was wearing a helmet when he went down on the ice, the damage was still done. Prompto solemnly nods in understanding. It takes time to find something else when you have to give up the only thing you’ve ever loved.

He understands it all too well.

——

Prompto has another suggestion. A yin yoga class. Restoration and relaxation.

Sounds good, doesn’t it?

Maybe... Noctis frowns and asks Prompto if the studio does private lessons. 

But of course.

——

Noctis goes to the rink sometimes to watch the kids skating. Something that he hasn’t been able to do in quite sometime. He hates it, wishes he could be back on the ice again and leaving a trail of defeat in his wake. But, he supposes. This is okay.

The doctor said he couldn’t skate for sometime due to his head injury. He still had memory issues at times, dizziness, blurry vision, and blackouts that he couldn’t control. It was a liability for him to do something that active and dangerous again. What if he was out on the ice and cracked his skull open for the world to see? All his thoughts fluttering out of his previous defeat when he had blazed a trail of glory for so long. That wouldn’t do, would it?

He sees a child on the ice, dark hair, couldn’t be older than three. His father is behind him, holding his hands up and letting the child find his grounding on the slippery surface. There’s gonna be an adult to catch him if he falls, so don’t worry. Can’t say the same for when you get older, but I got you for now. It reminds him of his own father when he was that young. When his mother was still alive and the three of them would go skating together.

Noctis sighs at the sight and crosses his arms over his chest.

——

More physical therapy. More aches and pains.

Yet, his therapist comments that she’s seeing improvements. His flexibility is looking a lot better than it has in weeks. And his muscle tone is coming along, too. Still going to yoga, Noctis? Do you like it?

He shrugs at her. Meh, it’s okay.

——

He wants to return to the ice. He _wants_ to skate again. Noctis goes to the doctor and asks him if he can go. Please. Just once. I want to be out there again. The doctor sighs and asks Noctis if he wants to risk restarting the entire healing process all over again? No, right? You can’t do it.

Noctis pleads with Ignis. No, Noctis.

Gladio? It’s for the best that you don’t.

He voices his frustrations to Prompto in the warmth of a cafe that night. They took another instructors class together and Noctis was sitting around waiting for Ignis to pick him up. He asks Prompto if he would like to go ice skating sometime. Just the two of them. Wouldn’t it be nice to be on the ice again?

Prompto smiles, though there’s a certain sadness belying it. He understands Noctis’ frustration, but with his condition, he can’t take that sort of risk again. What if he had an episode and blacked out on them? Noctis grumbles that he’ll wear a helmet if its _that_ bad. Prompto shakes his head again. He’s going to have to let it go.

Noctis sighs and sips angrily at his coffee. Even Prompto was against him.

——

Sometimes he wants to run outside into the darkness of the snowy winter night and freeze to death. The cold reminds him of the chill of the rink. But, there’s ice outside. What if he doesn’t see it and he slips and falls? Cracks his head again. Uh-oh.

——

His private session with Prompto turns into a lesson on working through his trauma.

It’s different from their usual classes. Prompto tells him that this is called _yin_ yoga. A slower form of restorative yoga that is used to relax and repair the mind and body connection. Noctis looks at Prompto questioningly and Prompto tells him to relax and that they will both start this practice in child pose. Noctis presses his nose to the mat and focuses in on the sound of his breath and Prompto’s voice echoing gently in the background. They work their way through the session, some of the familiar postures of hatha coming to Noctis as they progress.

Prompto, aware of the injuries that Noctis is still currently working on healing, tells him to take it easy as he lunges too far into Eka Pada Rajakapotasana—Pigeon pose. This isn’t a race. This is to care for the body. As Noctis bends over at the waist and drapes himself over the front of the mat, he feels the tinge of something in his left upper hamstring … almost as if something is releasing itself and sighs.

He pushes back and Prompto tells him to lay on his back. The last part of this practice will end in a ten minute sound bath. Noctis watches in curiosity as Prompto waddles off to the side of the room and starts to place large opaque bowls at the front of the room and sits down on a cushion in front of them. He encourages Noctis to lay back down and to reconnect with his breathing.

The bowls sound weird at first. Like someones playing a janky xylophone and the ringing won’t stop. But then the warbling sound effect gets to him and the sounds that keep coming back and fading feel …oddly calming to some effect. Noctis goes off to what he feels is like another world. His mind wanders… and he wonders if Prompto is even there anymore.

On his next inhale he feels his breath catch and a pressure pings at his nose. Oh, what was that? He tries to inhale again, but his lungs won’t take in any air. Something wet comes to the corner of his eyes and he gnaws on his bottom lip with his teeth. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Whatever _this_ is.

Had Noctis actually dealt with the trauma of that accident over a year ago? He saw the reports sometime later. His father’s face when he went down. His unconscious body being lifted from the ice and taken away on a stretcher. They said he was out for almost four days before he finally came to. He almost… he almost died. He could have died. Broken more than he already did. Lost more of himself than he already felt he did.

He tried to breath in again and with a shaky breath, he found some air coming down through his windpipe, pressing against his ribs, his diaphragm expelling it back into the air. He took another breath. That’s what Prompto always said, right? Remember the breath? Again. Take another breath, its okay.

The sounds of the bowls died down and he heard Prompto call out to him in the darkness. When he opened his eyes, the lights were dim and Prompto was standing by the door with his hand on the light control console. He glanced toward Prompto and then sat up immediately so he could wipe his face before Prompto could see him. Maybe he already did. Prompto walked back over to him and asked if he was okay. Noctis gave him a hurried nod and set about rolling up his map before Prompto could ask him anything else.

  
That was enough yoga for today.

——

Noctis apologizes for the other day. Prompto insists that he doesn’t have to. He’s seen more than his fair share of crying during class. It’s a part of the process. Let the release come. Don’t fight it.

——

The weeks pass into winter. The holidays come and go.

A new year begins. The tree pose becomes grounded and his feet finally lift off the ground to resemble a crow about to take flight.

Progress.

——

Prompto shows him some insane arm balance transitions one night and Noctis thinks he might have been lying about that figure skater bit, and Prompto was actually a contortionist instead. Nope, just … practice. Lots and lots of practice … and patience.

Prompto sleeps over that night and Noctis notes how it feels different to have another warm body in his bed. He’s unsure of where to put his arms and legs. Should he and Prompto be touching right now? Would that even be okay? He touches him during class sometime to fix his posture… but that’s different. Oh, he hates how fucking _awkward_ he is. Noctis rolls over to face the wall, away from Prompto and the blond rolls up against his side.

Stop moving already, _Noct_ , jeez.

——

His physical therapist tells him that he won’t need to come to regular sessions anymore pretty soon. She’s seen so much improvement in him within the last couple of months that it might be okay to stop things in another month or so. That yoga is really helping you out, hm?

——

He could have sworn Prompto smacked him on the butt while everyone was in downward dog.

Sexual harassment? Nah, he liked it.

Nasty.

—

Ignis asks him if he’s dating his yoga instructor while they’re sitting in the car after class one morning.

Why is everyone always so _interested_ in what he does with Prompto? Its annoying. Go away, he’s not a teenager that needs minding after. Noctis tells Ignis to drive the car and to stop being so nosey. He’s been with his family for ages, but what’s private is private. _Jeez._

From the passenger side, Gladio tells him that he saw Prompto smack his ass during class the other day. Ignis massages the bridge of his nose and Noctis retreats further into the backseat and tells them that they’re both idiots and to _stay_ out of his private life.

Later that night, Regis tells Noctis to invite Prompto to dinner the next time they all go out. It would be nice to see him again.

——

They go to the rink together to sit and people watch. Ice skate watch. Whatever its called.

Noctis tells Prompto of how his father started him off on the ice. When his mother was still alive, that is. He knew how to skate on the ice better than walking at some point in his life. Now that it’s all over, what does he have left? Prompto nods, understanding the sentiment. Figure skating was the same way in his life. For him, it was a way to curb loneliness. Absentee parents, on his part. Sure, they paid for his lessons, but they were never there to see him compete.

Noctis asks Prompto how far he went and Prompto chuckles at the question. He was never good enough for the Olympics like _some_ people, but he went to a point that made him happy… for that time. He stopped when he was nineteen. That’s… when all the stuff happened. But, its okay now. He’s found a new passion in photography… and yoga, he surmises. He has things that make him happy and content with his life as it currently is.

He’s sure Noctis will find something that makes him happy again, too, someday.

——

Prompto freaks out the day Noctis attempts a headstand before anyone can stop him and goes careening straight onto his back. _Be careful_. _Ohmygodohmygodohmygod._

They argue, feelings are hurt, people go home angry.

Prompto is being irrational. They’re all being irrational. He can _do_ it. He’s better now. He’s not going to hurt himself again. They’re all so afraid of him hurting himself that they can’t see how far he’s come, how far he’s progressed. Why won’t they just let him _try_ again.

In the back of his closet, his skates are buried underneath boxes he hasn’t looked at or touched in nearly a year. He angrily pulls them out, one by one and looks at his former self. The person that he used to be. Was it all a lie? Did any of that even happen? He feels inclined to rip of the photos, trash the medals, burn it all down so that he can forget.

That night he goes to sleep and dreams about skating through fog. Endless fog, a darkened sky, and nothing but a landscape of ice sprawled out before him.

——

Noctis doesn’t go to class for the next week.

He calls Prompto and they go out to dinner on Saturday night. Apologies are given. Some kind of understanding is met. Noctis is having a hard time, is this what working through trauma is like? After the accident, he went to therapy for awhile. Not physical, the one for the mind. But he didn’t like how it felt… didn’t like the therapist telling him that he had some type of trauma associated with the accident … post traumatic stress was it? He didn’t like people telling him what he didn’t think of himself.

He had become a recluse of sorts following the accident. Noctis was never social to begin with, always being more quiet and withdrawn than anything. But this was different. Little by little, he began to build himself up again and go out in public. It was hard, but he did it.

He feels like the last bit associated to this perceived trauma that he still harbors is linked with going back out there on the ice and feeling it … just one more time. Feeling okay to be out there again without the fear of falling and slamming face first into the cold, hard, surface. He wasn’t afraid of falling anymore, everyone else was.

——

Gladio is on one side, Prompto on the other.

He slides the helmet onto his head, laces the skates onto his feet and stands up. It feels different. The skates press into his feet in places he hadn’t felt in a long time. They hurt. Felt weighty. Ignis watches from the stands, fingers pressed to his lips in silence. No one is in the rink tonight, they requested a private skating time.

Prompto is the first one on the ice, spinning around so gracefully on the skates that in a way, Noctis envies him. Gladio steps out next, holding firmly to Noctis as they wobble slightly on the ice. He’s supported, they have him. It’s okay. Prompto glides over with the ice skating walker and hands it over to Noctis with a look of ambivalence on his face, but it’s okay. He’s got this. Gladio’s firm grip gives way and Prompto stays at Noct’s side as the two of them push off onto the ice, slowly, of course.

Prompto smiles and asks Noctis if this is supposed to be a date. Noctis would probably snicker a little if he didn’t feel so ridiculous right now with all these eyes on him. The ice skates still feel tight on his feet, but the feeling is right. Noctis inhales deeply and closes his eyes for a minute, not moving his legs at all… just standing on the ice and taking in the moment. He hears the sound of Prompto’s skates cutting up the ice and finally sighs. A long time ago, he could hear the faint echo of cheering in the stands and an announcer screaming some garbled mess over their raucous voices. That was the past, this was now. And this was enough. This is what he needed the most.

Prompto slowly comes back into focus, grabbing hold of his arm and they slowly make their way around the rink and come back to Gladio who was waiting patiently for them by the entrance to the ice rink. Ignis is waiting there as well as Noctis steps off the ice and back onto solid ground. They’re all staring at him as if waiting for him to say something and he just shrugs as he takes the helmet off and let’s it clatter to the seat in front of him. Next, the skates. He taps the edge of the blade against his gloved hand and remembers something he lost. But, it’s okay.

He looks up and just smiles at them. The first genuine smile he’s given someone in ages.

Small, reserved, but its there.

——

Noctis doesn’t try anymore headstands or balances that go against what he’s capable of right now. As Prompto had told him before, forget his ego. _Patience_.

He’s been working on his side crow now since the bird has mended its wings again.

In the middle of class, Prompto passes by his mat and looks down at him. He pauses and then kneels down as a means of support. Noctis leans onto his arm for support, looking straight ahead and …and falls flat on his ass. Prompto stifles a chuckle and Noctis smirks at him. His yoga instructor—( _shhh, boyfriend)—_ gestures for him to get back on the mat and try again. A glance over his shoulder and then he’s off to help someone else during class.

Noctis glances over to Ignis. Oh, he’s on his head. Back perfectly straight. Show off.

A turn toward Gladio. …That …Mountain pose is really… straight. That’s something, huh?

With resolve, Noctis inhales deeply, remembers the pacing of his breath. He gets back on the mat.

Patience, Noctis.

_Patience_.


End file.
